


When You Move

by walkalittleline



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Dream Sequence, Fjord is having the real wet dreams now, M/M, Mild episode 99 spoilers, brief Fjord/Avantika
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:47:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23150419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkalittleline/pseuds/walkalittleline
Summary: Her hair is surprisingly soft and silken between his fingers, much more pleasant to comb his hand through than the tangled mess of sun-bleached hair he remembers. He’s so taken aback he barely registers that the way she’s kissing him has changed. It’s gentle and tender in a way she never kissed him, so jarringly different he pulls back to look at her suspiciously. His stomach lurches in surprise when it’s not Avantika staring back at him anymore. It’s Caduceus.
Relationships: Caduceus Clay/Fjord
Comments: 19
Kudos: 451





	When You Move

He’s not sure how the dream starts. He thinks his brain simply drifts into it as he sleeps, that fuzzy sort of half-reality that makes him wonder if it’s even a dream or not. But he realizes it _must_ be a dream, because he’s in bed, the room dark around him and the soft rustle of sheets under him, and Avantika is laying on top of him. Her lips are pressed to his own and he resists the urge to pull away in distaste, forcing himself to kiss her back as she forces her tongue past his lips with a groan, the same rough, demanding way she had kissed him on those few occasions they’d ended up in bed together.

Her knee pushes his thighs apart and Fjord swallows down a wave of nausea when she grinds her hips down against his. She grabs his hand and raises it to her hair and he automatically tangles his fingers in it, trying to focus on the coarse texture against his skin and let his mind go blank so he doesn’t have to think about what’s happening, willing himself to wake up.

It’s not coarse though. Her hair is surprisingly soft and silken between his fingers, much more pleasant to comb his hand through than the tangled mess of sun bleached hair he remembers. He’s so taken aback he barely registers that the way she’s kissing him has changed. It’s gentle and tender in a way she _never_ kissed him, so jarringly different he pulls back to look at her suspiciously. His stomach lurches in surprise when it’s not Avantika staring back at him anymore. It’s Caduceus.

“Everything okay?” he says quietly, the low timbre of his voice immediately soothing Fjord’s anxiety. The lump of nausea in his stomach fades.

“Do you want to stop?” Caduceus says, soft and inquisitive. His hair is still wound in Fjord’s fingers, his eyes reflecting dully in the flickering light of the oil lamp by the bed. 

He has to remind himself that this is a dream. That Caduceus isn’t _really_ here in his bed, a concept he’s still trying to wrap his head around. Why his brain conjured _Caduceus_ of all people he doesn’t know. He supposed it has to do with the fact that Caduceus disguised himself as Avantika earlier in their trip. He’s still not entirely sure how to feel about the whole thing.

But Caduceus’ lips are wet and bruised from kissing, his cheeks flushed pink in a way Fjord has never seen before, and Fjord feels a sudden, unexpected surge of heat in his belly at the sight. If it’s just a dream, what’s the harm in it, really? He’s had much worse dreams than this before.

“No,” he says with a shake of his head. “No, I don’t want to stop. Do you?”

Caduceus smiles bashfully and shakes his head, looking down shyly as he does. 

“I want you to feel good.”

His cheeks are pink and Fjord feels a combination of fondness and desire hit him so strongly he feels dizzy.

“You too,” he murmurs. “I want you to feel good, too.”

Caduceus looks up at him again. God, have his eyelashes always been so long? There’s heat behind his eyes and Fjord can’t help but wind his fingers tighter in his hair and grip the back of his head to pull him into another kiss. Caduceus lets out a quiet whine and heat throbs in Fjord’s groin at the sound. He’s already hard, sure Caduceus can feel his erection digging into his stomach where he’s lying on top of him.

Fjord kisses him hungrily, groaning at the feeling of his tongue sliding against his own. His lips are soft and plump, his fingers brushing tentatively over Fjord’s arms in a way that sends a shudder across his skin. Fjord wraps an arm around his waist to pull him tighter against him, letting his legs fall open so Caduceus’ hips rest between his thighs. Fjord can feel him hard through his clothes and he grinds up against him, groaning at the friction and the low whine it elicits from Caduceus.

He doesn’t remember ever feeling this aroused in his life. It’s certainly nothing like his time with Avantika, when he had to shut part of his brain down to continue. There’s _want_ in him that feels foreign but not unwelcome. The need to touch and be touched by him so strong he feels suffocated by it. 

“I want you,” he breathes, kissing sloppily down Caduceus’ jaw, letting his teeth drag over his throat as his hips push up needily again. “I want you so bad, Caduceus.”

Caduceus merely whimpers and nods. Fjord takes the encouragement and rolls them both over on the bed so he’s on top of him, grinding into his jutting hips and swearing shakily under his breath at how deliriously good the friction feels, heat heavy low in his gut and his thighs trembling.

Caduceus moans, the sound alone enough to make Fjord’s head spin with want. He arches under him, hands curling in Fjord’s shirt and head tilting back into the pillows. There’s a fluidity about the way he moves that reminds Fjord of water, smooth and graceful and alluring. He slides his hand up his shirt, his skin velvet soft against his own, and Caduceus shivers and i inhales shakily.

“ _Fjord_.”

Fjord swears again at the sound of his name from his lips, a desperate, whispered plea that he’s more than willing to answer. He fumbles with the front of his trousers, undoing the lacing before doing the same to Caduceus’ as he kisses wetly down the line of his throat. He slips his fingers under the fabric, suddenly needing to feel the warm weight of Caduceus’ cock in his hand. 

As soon as his fingers wrap around him, Caduceus whines and thrusts into his fist. His hands drop to the bed and tighten in the sheets and his leg hooks around Fjord’s hip.

“You can touch me,” Fjord murmurs into the soft skin of Caduceus’ throat. “Touch me, Caduceus.”

He grins when Caduceus’ hands move to grip his back again, his fingers digging into his shoulders. He pumps his fist sharply, savoring the way Caduceus writhes and whimpers under him. He suddenly wants to hear what he sounds like when he gets off, see his face when he comes from Fjord’s touch, feel that downy soft skin against every inch of his own. The very thought is dizzying.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Caduceus breathes. “ _Fjord_. Please don’t stop.”

Fjord’s eyes snap open to darkness, disorienting after the warm glow of firelight that existed in his brain. He’s breathing heavily, his face pressed into his pillow and his blanket tangled around his legs. He’s almost painfully hard and he has to stifle a groan just from turning onto his side so he can glance around to see that the others are still sleeping.

He almost laughs in relief seeing that they still are, some of them snoring quietly where they’re sprawled out in a circle in the makeshift pile of beds and blankets strewn across the floor of the cabin. The spectral guardian Caduceus had created to guard him is standing nearby, still and silent, its crystal head faced away from him and a soft blue glow filling the cabin.

His eyes land on Caduceus where he’s sleeping only a few feet away, snoring gently, his face slack and peaceful and his hair tumbling down across the sheets. His eyelashes are as long as Fjord remembers from his dream.

He looks away quickly, his face burning with embarrassment and guilt, staring instead at the ceiling above him. The ship creaks and rocks around him, the room otherwise silent apart from his friends’ breathing.

He shuts his eyes, opening them immediately again when his mind supplies the image of Caduceus sprawled out under him, eyes hooded and lips wet and tempting.

“Fuck,” he mutters, digging his palms into his eyelids. “ _Fuck_.”

“Fjord?”

Fjord jumps, pulling his hands away to look over at Caduceus where he’s blinking drowsily at him, looking concerned.

“Everything okay?” he says. His voice is low and rough with sleep and the sound does nothing to calm Fjord’s arousal.

“Yes, sorry, did I wake you?” Fjord says, subtly shifting his legs and blankets to try and hide his obvious erection.

“I try not to sleep heavily these days,” Caduceus replies. He says it lightly but Fjord can hear the worry in his voice.

Fjord rolls onto his side to face him. “I think we’re okay for now,” he says. “Especially with your friend.” He nods to the still figure at the door and Caduceus hums in agreement.

“Did you need to go upstairs?” he says before adding, “to take care of that?” when Fjord gives him a quizzical look.

He nods towards Fjord, eyes flicking down, and Fjord follows his eyes to see that his blanket has slipped sideways, leaving his now softening erection clearly visible through his trousers.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Caduceus says calmly when Fjord splutters and yanks his blanket back over him, his face burning with humiliation. “It happens.”

Fjord laughs nervously, half wishing something would attack the ship just to get him out of the conversation. Caduceus seems entirely unphased, his expression politely bemused as if he’s not sure why Fjord is so embarrassed. Then again, this is the same Caduceus who had no problem essentially admitting he heard his parents have sex growing up. 

For someone who seemed completely inexperienced with it, he was certainly unbothered by the talk of sex. Then again, he probably wasn’t haven’t the sort of dreams about Fjord that Fjord was now apparently having about _him_.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Caduceus says, now looking guilty.

“No, no, you didn’t upset me, it’s fine,” Fjord says. He’s eager to change the subject, not sure how much longer he can look Caduceus in the eye with the memory of his dream still stark in his mind. He wonders what Caduceus would do if he moved closer to him and touched him like he had in his dream. Wonders if this flesh and blood Caduceus would react the same way the one his brain created did.

“I think I’m going to get some air,” Fjord says. He pushes himself to his feet, pleased at least that the conversation has at least killed any lingering arousal.

“Wait.” Caduceus sits up and reaches out towards him, touching his hand to his wrist. His fingers are long and slender, the back of his hand and wrist covered in fine fur that Fjord thinks must be as soft as he imagined in his dream.

Caduceus murmurs something and waves his other hand and Fjord feels a sudden warmth spread out across his arm from where they’re touching.

“What was that?” Fjord says curiously as Caduceus draws his hand back and lays down again.

“A little extra protection,” Caduceus replies cryptically. “Just in case.”

Some of the tension in Fjord’s chest loosens and he can’t help the sudden fondness he feels for the other man.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

Caduceus nods, not quite looking at him as if this is somehow more embarrassing than calling Fjord out for his erection.

“Get some sleep,” Fjord says, “I won’t be gone long.”

Caduceus nods again and shuts his eyes as he leaves. When Fjord returns twenty minutes later after a brief stroll around the deck to breathe in the warm ocean air, however, he sees Caduceus’ apparently sleeping form visibly relax when he lies back down.

“Goodnight, Caduceus,” Fjord murmurs. 

He leaves his eyelids cracked when he shuts them, smiling faintly when Caduceus’ own eyes open and sweep over him like he’s ensuring he’s untouched before closing again. He watches Caduceus steadily drift off, bathed in blue light, before allowing himself to do the same, guiltily hoping his dream continues from where it left off as he does.


End file.
